We would always be tied together in some way, and I could try to explain all of this as me feeling friendly toward him. But with the way that I hung on to every one of his breaths, I knew the truth. I knew it even while sick and exhausted.
I had feelings for Dean. They were terrible, useless, annoying feelings, and yet they were here. I was going to get my heart broken. I knew it, but in the moment when we drove back to my house, I could pretend that he would someday feel the same way.
When we got home, my plan was to rouse myself enough just to get up the stairs and get to my room. Dean had differentplans because he opened the truck door for me and carried me all the way inside.
It once again would have been romantic if it hadn’t been for the fact that he didn’t believe in romance.
“Wait,” I said as we walked to the hallway. “I want a shower.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I’m exhausted and stinky. I would like to only be exhausted.”
Dean pressed his lips together and I could tell he didn’t like the idea of me showering alone. If we were in a different scenario, I’d suggest for him to shower with me. Not for anything untoward, but just to have him around.
“Fine, but I’ll stay next to the door just in case something goes wrong.”
“I can live with that.”
He slowly set me down and I shut myself in the bathroom. One look at myself told me that showering was definitely the right thing to do. My hair was a mess. I was pale. And the smell of myself almost made me throw up again.
I made it quick, knowing I was working with borrowed energy. When I was done, Dean was waiting with clothes.
“So you did leave me.”
“Only for a second. I figured you’d want something clean to wear.”
He was very right about that. I took them and slowly changed into them, and I was officially done with my shower.
The second my head hit the pillow, sleep tried to claim me. Dean was still in the doorway, looking at me as if I could fall apart at any second. Today was the reminder that I could.
But his lingering reminded me of something else that I wanted. I assumed nothing but time would fixhow I felt. Having him walk into my room and lay on my bed next to me sure would too.
Sleep made everything fuzzy. It seemed easier and easier to ask him.
“Stay,” I muttered.
“What?”
There was a part of me that was still lucid enough to know that I was making a mistake by asking him this. This could ruin everything. But as much as that part of me tried to get my attention, the need to not be alone was so much louder.
“I don’t wanna be by myself. I’m sad and sick, and I’m always alone.”
He was silent for so long, I almost drifted entirely to sleep. “I don’t do things like that, Grace.”
And yet I was still awake enough for that to hurt. My eyes grew wet.
“Okay.” I wouldn’t push him, but I couldn’t hide the crack in my voice.
I expected him to make his escape, and then tomorrow, we would pretend that this never happened.
“Dammit,” he muttered. I had no idea what he was so frustrated with, but then the bed dipped with his weight. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
The heat from his body was intoxicating. I could only blame my tiredness and sickness for what I did next. Instead of giving him space, like I always did when he was awake, I shuffled closer. He must have laid down because my cheek was pressing against his arm tightly. I wanted to touch more of him, so I wound my arms around him.
His breath stuttered, but he didn’t push me away. I’d be mortified about this tomorrow, but for tonight, I drifted off, staying as close to him as I possibly could.
30